Race the Moon
by jadedpisces
Summary: She feels too much while he has forgotten how to feel anything at all. Eight years post-war they find each other in the most unusual place. Together and wandless, they must race against the moon to save two war heroes from Death Eater vengeance.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I, of course, do not own the characters you may recognize, only their twisted fates for the time being. Also, I've rated this T but it is a strong T. There is some adult themes and strong language so reader beware. Thank you for reading.

Dr. Cornwell 

"Why doesn't anyone believe me?!" The petite woman screamed as she threw a chair against the wall. It shattered to pieces with a loud crash as though it was made of toothpicks. Immediately, two large male staff members restrained her tightly as she panted and struggled in rage. Strangely, the men appeared to have difficulty controlling the irate patient despite her unassuming size. "I don't belong here...I'm not crazy. I want to go home. Let me go!"

"You must calm yourself, Ms. Brown," one of the men instructed through gritted teeth, but the woman continued to fight him.

"Would you like some Haldol?" A nurse asked from across the room.

The other man shook his head, "Drugs won't be necessary, will they, Ms Brown?" He relaxed his grip on the patient slightly, but his eyes never left her face.

The woman shook her head, her wild hair flailing about her face as she glanced around the room. "No Sir, I am alright." She panted heavily.

"Good. Now, no more talk of magic schools and dark lords, alright? It's upsetting the other patients."

She nodded slowly and began to cry as her body relaxed. Her arms were released, and she was guided to a nearby chair. She placed her face in her hands, and her shoulders shook as she continued her silent sobs.

I watched the entire exchange from the doorway to the common room. Lavender Brown was my newest patient at St. Dymphna's Hospital, an inpatient psychiatric ward outside of Manchester, England. I knew very little about this unfortunate young woman; only that her parents could no longer handle her violent outbursts, deep depressive episodes, and delusions of special abilities. Therefore, they felt the need to commit her to our care.

According to her file, which was quite extensive, she had returned home to live with her parents after being assaulted in her final year at some exclusive Scottish boarding school. Since that time about eight years ago, she had become increasingly violent and unpredictable and most recently expressed seeing "premonitions" of bad things happening to those around her.

I moved to sit beside the woman. "Ms. Brown?" She stared blankly at me, eyes bloodshot and swollen from her tears. "I am Dr. Gina Cornwell." She nodded but said nothing. "I am a psychiatrist. I will be taking care of you while you are here."

She laughed then, a low odd sound. "Muggle medicine cannot help me, Doctor." Her tone was full of disdain and contempt. She shook her head as a finger reached to stroke her collarbone. Beneath her fingertips I saw that her skin was raised in unsightly scars which she traced absently. "Nothing can help me."

I paused as my mind replayed her words as I observed her silently. Muggle medicine? Interesting. I had heard that phrase before from an equally perplexing patient whom resided on the floor above. How unusual. It was not uncommon for psychotic delusions to present with similar themes such as ideas of grandeur and power, paranoia, or beliefs of persecution, but to share similar made-up terms was rare. I was immediately fascinated. There must be a connection.

"Why can't I help you, Lavender?" I pressed gently for more information.

"Because I am not crazy! You all are just ignorant to our World," she hissed as she crossed her arms across her frame and leaned over as if she were going to be ill. Her body trembled as she rocked slightly back and forth. She was a tragic sight.

"Then tell me, Lavender. Please help me to understand," I continued to coax my new patient even though she was telling me through her body language that she did not intend to open up to me today. I hoped to establish some connection with her anyway. These early meetings were the most critical. If I could not convince a patient to trust me early on, I would rarely ever win them over later.

"I can't," she whispered. "I just can't. Not anymore." Her eyes glared piercingly at another patient across the room. Her target whimpered and left the room quickly. I wondered what has transpired between the two before my arrival. Then I returned my attention back to troubled woman in front of me.

I could sense that Ms. Brown was going to be a difficult case. Her emotions were completely erratic, and her psychosis was long-standing. "You can't or you won't, Ms. Brown? I promise anything you tell me is confidential. You needn't fear me," I smiled hoping it was a comforting gesture.

"I am not crazy!" Her eyes were shadowed with emotions I could not quite describe, but I could tell she kept something dark tucked away deep inside. It was my job to find out what that was and to free her from it.

"That does not mean I can't help you." I paused. "I can help you make sense of things if you will allow me. All you have to do is trust me." I paused again as she appeared to be considering my words. "You don't have to decide now. I am available to you whenever you are ready, okay?"

She nodded but said nothing. At least it was not a refusal.

"Thank you for allowing me to talk with you, Lavender." I stood and headed towards the doorway. I could feel Ms. Brown's eyes upon me as I left. I only hoped I could reach her before it was too late.

Lavender Brown 

I glared at the woman as she left. Who was she to think she could succeed where the best magical minds had already failed? There was nothing that could be done for me; my body was possessed by evil like she would never know. I wanted nothing more than to tear the skin from my bones or gouge out my eyes every time I caught a glimpse of my own reflection; anything to destroy the reminders of what had happened. Anything to become something else.

She could never understand that. She would never grasp the intensity of the uncontrolled emotions that overtook me at every whim and how excruciating it was to maintain just enough control to keep from shattering the skulls of anyone nearby with the magic that coursed through my veins like nitroglycerin. I was like an six year old again; my powers unmasked by my emotions. Only now my magic was much more capable of doing more than just cracking a mirror or flickering the lights. I was dangerous, but what was much worse was that I was unpredictable. At least those were the words of my parents as they left me in this horrible place.

My own parents had lost faith in me. They feared me so much that they had given up on magical cures and pushed me off into the Muggle world desperate for something more. There was nothing more, Fools.

A padded cell is probably what I required. The other options had run out. Just lock me away where I can't damage anyone or anything until my desires finally conquers my self-control, and I manage to destroy myself.

Oh! It would be messy, but it would be incredibly satisfying to finally give in to the animal instincts I had been fighting for eight impossibly long years. I licked my lips at the thought as I allowed my nails to dig into my own flesh for an instant. Sweet, delicious pain! Even this tiny taste of it was exhilarating.

When did I become so masochistic? Oh yes, it was the day that sadistic werewolf attempted to literally tear me apart. How I wished he could have just changed me instead or even killed me. I imagine that the transformation to a werewolf had to be much less difficult than what I had become. And death, how I longed for it.

What had I become? There wasn't even a word for things like me, was there? To the Muggles, I was psychotic, but at least that meant something. In my world, I was simply a monstrous enigma; something to be feared and ostracized.

I, Lavender Brown, had become something invoking fear. Eight and half years ago not a soul on the Earth, Muggle or Magical, would have believed that possible. I was just some silly, inconsequential school girl.

I missed silly and inconsequential.

Dr. Cornwell 

I could hardly wait to return to my office. I quickly began flipping through the stacks of files on my cluttered desk searching for the one belonging to my other "Muggle-phobic" patient. Finally, I located it among the pile with my most frustrating cases; Unidentified Male 276.

I opened the file to reveal a photo of a gaunt, pale, dark-haired male about forty-five years old. I quickly scanned the contents.

276 came to our facility approximately eight years ago after being found wandering the gardens in one of the nearby small towns. He was dressed in tattered black robes and worn boots and armed with a wooden stake he claimed to be his "wand." The police found no identification on the man, and he refused to identify himself. He only rambled about being poisoned and claimed to be seeking ingredients for the potion that could cure him. He also claimed to be extremely powerful and dangerous. However, he was easily taken in to police custody.

After being heavily sedated at the local hospital and thoroughly examined for organic causes to his psychosis, he was brought to us for further evaluation and treatment. Since his arrival, we had made very little progress. He required heavy doses of anti-psychotics to control his delusions of being a "dark wizard and Master of Potions." Unfortunately, he also suffered many side effects from those medications.

He also was a trouble maker. Somehow he started multiple fires over the years, although we never located his flame source. He also has a knack for lock-picking, and the other patients often complain of him "invading their minds." Although he had never been overtly violent, patients and staff alike feared the man, and he seemed to prefer it that way.

I read over some of my old notes from our earliest visits and was struck by the similarities between his case and that of Ms. Brown's. It was uncanny actually. Both spoke of a 'Dark Lord' and 'Magical Wars' as well as a place known as 'Hogwarts.' Both patients had had "wands" removed from their possessions and claimed supernatural abilities.

Then there were the strange, unidentifiable injuries they both possessed. Ms. Brown's file contained medical records with photos of injuries resembling those from an animal attack that spanned from her left collarbone to left buttocks. She had also experienced injury to her spleen and a collapsed lung in the attack. The exact details of her attack were known to no one, not even her own parents.

276 possessed a mangled, unsightly scar on his lower neck that spanned from jugular to jugular. His records indicated he was fortunate to have survived such a wound, but the cause was still undetermined. 276 claimed they were the result of some murder attempt, but he never elaborated further.

I flipped through his file further. It contained scans of many of his journal entries. He wrote incessantly it seemed. I stared at the strange recipes, symbols and charts written in tiny, cramped scribbles. While I recognized the words individually, together it was as though I was reading a foreign language. And in fact, as I continued to study the cryptic notes, I noticed much of it was not English at all, but Latin and some Greek.

With a few keystrokes and mouse-clicks, I began translating. Immediately, a few things struck me – "to burn or to set fire," "to attack," "to protect," and finally "To repel" Muggletum (which I could guess meant Muggles). Next, I referenced the "ingredients" of the recipes. Many of the strangest brought no search results, but the others seemingly fit in to three categories; antidotes, poisons, or herbs with supposed medicinal properties.

After almost an hour of indulging my curiosity and learning little of actual clinical relevance, I put the files away. I had many more patients to see.

Lavender Brown 

I hated being stared at. Ever since arriving at this Hell-Hole, everyone stared at me. I felt every eye in the room scanning my form as I stepped into the common area. I felt naked despite the hideous colorless scrubs that covered me. I glared fiercely back hoping it would be sufficient warning. It was for most.

I sat in an empty cushioned chair that was facing the window. My head ached, and I felt nauseous and a bit shaky. I knew why; I just did not want to admit to myself that perhaps I had been self medicating all those years while at home. But as the effects of withdrawal became stronger, I could lie to myself no longer. I had always convinced myself that there was nothing wrong with the small amount of whiskey or a shot or two of brandy just to take the edge off. It had taken months of trial and error to find the perfect balance, but I found it.

Eventually, I had mastered the art of being comfortably numb, compared to numb-as-fuck, or simply drunk out of my mind. I knew exactly how much was just right, where one drop more would push me over that edge into drunkenness which meant a disastrous loss of control. Now, however, I had none and my body was telling me in no uncertain terms that it was in need.

One of the nurses approached me. His eyes were kind, and he did not stare at me. Instead, he smiled and handed me a paper cup. "You look like you could use some tea."

I took the cup with a forced smile and a nod. I really did appreciate his kindness, but true smiles seemed impossible these days. Then I took a long sip. It certainly was not whiskey, but the hot tea was a welcome burn down the back of my throat. I drank it quickly, anxious to get to the bottom of the cup.

With high hopes, I swirled the last bit of liquid in the bottom of the cup three times before spilling it out onto my napkin. Then I held my breath as I glanced back in to the cup. The leaves gave news only of struggles and obstacles. I clenched my jaw as I crushed the paper cup in my palms before tossing it away toward the trash bin.

The crumpled cup was intercepted. I glanced up to see beast of a man, unshaven and dressed in the same hospital-issued attire as myself. He stared at me with a wicked grin on his face. "Hello, Witch."

Instinctively, I reached for my wand. Of course, I found it to be absent. I stood up from the chair and stepped away from it in case the situation escalated. "Can I help you?" I asked as my fists clenched with nerves.

"You don't look very powerful to me," he laughed.

I could feel everyone's eyes upon me once again as emotions swirled around my head. I tried to grab a hold of one in order to focus; to gain some control. They eluded me leaving me nothing but mindless energy bubbling within.

"Luther, leave the woman alone," the male nurse scolded from behind his desk.

"I won't hurt her, no worries," Luther responded with a chuckle that made my stomach churn. He turned his eyes back to me and tossed the cup back in my face. I caught it reflexively. "Tell me, Witch, did you see me coming in that cup? Bet you didn't."

I backed away instinctively as he slowly edged closer to me. This was going to end badly, and part of me embraced the idea. I needed a release. This man would be that release if he pushed things much further.

"Well, Witch – what did you see?" Luther asked. I sensed he was toying with me for his own simple amusement. He was toying with me just like... I shuddered as I willed myself not to think of that name. That did not stop the memories, however.

"_Hello, Witch." His rough tongue slipped along my cheek with a disgusting sound. "Such a pretty young thing with those golden locks shimmering in the moonlight. Caught my eye from across the hall y'know…lucky you," the werewolf whispered coarsely against my ear with a low chuckle as I struggled uselessly in his tight embrace. "You will make a lovely wolf, My Dear." He laughed darkly. _

My mind went blank as I felt my body charge. As if on autopilot I clawed, I kicked, I may have even bit. The entire occurrence was mostly a blur. The lights flickered, windows shuddered on their hinges and the once burly, dominating man fell to the ground beneath me. My attacks continued as he shielded his face. I laughed. Maybe he won't stare so hard next time.

Luther screamed "My eyes, my eyes, she has taken my eyes! Bloody Witch has made me blind!"

A sharp pain in my left buttock ended my twisted tantrum. A sudden cloud entered my thoughts and a weakness overtook my limbs. I was dragged from my helpless victim. I felt heavy with remorse. I knew I had done something terrible, I only hoped it was not permanent. Still, I laughed until I had the energy to laugh no more.

Maybe I really was crazy.

* * *

A/N: As with all my writing, I would adore some constructive criticism on this piece in order to help me improve. I really wanted to try something different here so please let me know what you think even if you hate it. Thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

Dr. Cornwell

I found Lavender Brown sitting in the window in her room. I watched her silently for a long moment from outside her door. She was so still that at first I thought she might be sleeping. It would not be surprising as she had received strong doses of Haldol and Ativan after a confrontation with one of the residential bullies this morning. I stepped into the room and cleared my throat to announce my presence.

"Don't even bother, Doctor. I am not in a cooperative mood today," she said in a voice devoid of any emotion. It was almost haunting to hear her sounding so dead after the intensity of our first meeting.

I stepped closer to the motionless girl. She appeared so frail as she sat with her legs drawn in, her thin frame outlined by the sun through the window. If I hadn't seen our two largest males nurses struggle to control her the day before, I would have doubted she even had the strength to get into the window. "Why are you feeling so uncooperative today, Lavender?"

Her face turned towards me slowly. Her features were strained as if in some sort of pain that she was attempting to conceal. She then returned her gaze out the glass. "She is waxing, so my self-control wanes – as does my patience," she replied softly, a hint of annoyance in her final word.

I followed her gaze. I then understood she was referring to the half-moon hanging high in the afternoon sky. "I see…" I said; a complete lie of course; I had no idea what she meant by the comment. I could only assume it was related to her magical delusions.

"Are you afraid you may hurt someone else?" I knew I had limited opportunity to speak with her before she closed off completely, so I decided to evaluate the crucial information first.

Lavender laughed then, but just as her voice was, the sound was empty of any true emotion.

I shivered.

"Of course I am afraid I might hurt someone. That is why I am this way!" She shook her head as if she thought I was the insane one.

"How would you hurt them, Lavender?" I had to push her. I had to assess the severity of violent thoughts especially after this morning's incident.

"I don't know. I don't want to know. All I know is that I must constantly resist the urge or else..." Her body tensed. Her nails dug into her skin along her forearm leaving wakes of raised fleshed behind.

I was relieved that she did not have specific plans of harm. "Is that why you haven't been to the dining hall? Are you afraid to be around the others?" No one had witnessed Lavender consume anything since her arrival which was quite concerning. Was it her appetite keeping her from eating, or something more ominous? I needed to know in order to help her.

She snorted in true amusement. "No! I don't go to the dining hall because your food smells like arse." Her nose scrunched in disgust, and her lip curled.

I laughed. I had to agree that the food at St Dymphna's left much to be desired, but I found it a bit surprising that she could smell the kitchen from across the complex. "Is there something else you would rather have? We do have a few alternative menus available. I could allow you meals in your room for a few days until you become more accustomed to everything."

She considered me for a long moment. "I suppose that would be okay." She paused. "I don't eat meat though..."

"So you are a vegetarian?" I did not remember reading that in her file. No wonder she despised the food so much. It was all mystery meat of some sort.

"No. I just prefer not to be tempted by animal flesh." Her gaze returned out the window again. I knew I was being dismissed.

"Thank you for your time, Ms. Brown. I will have dinner brought to your room tonight. Please don't hesitate to contact me if you need anything. I will return tomorrow."

She nodded but remained silent. I believed I had gained some trust with her. Hopefully, our next meeting would be even more productive. I hesitated to prescribe any medication until I knew exactly what I treating, but if she didn't reveal more to me soon I might have to make a judgment call based on the information I had.

"Doctor?" Lavender called after me.

I stepped back into her doorway. "Yes, Ms. Brown?"

"Is he alright?" I met her grey eyes. They revealed the intense remorse that was absent from her blunted tone.

"Who?"

"Luther, is he going to be alright?" Her words this time were filled with genuine concern.

Remorse; that was a good sign. "Only his pride will suffer any long-term effects, but it would be best to avoid confrontation with him in the future, I think. He is one to hold grudges, I am afraid."

She nodded slowly. I could not read her expression.

"Have a good day, Lavender." I smiled and left the room.

---------------------------------------------

I don't know what I was expecting to occur with the meeting between these two difficult and complicated patients, but I am quite sure it was not anything close to what actually happened. The morning I brought Lavender Brown to meet Unidentified Male 276 (or 'Sir' as we called him, since he responded to nothing else) was an eventful one.

Ms. Brown had been quite relaxed that day until her eyes fells upon the man that sat alone in the corner writing quietly in a journal. His dark hair fell over his eyes as he worked, apparently unaware of our presence. In an instant, she was across the room throwing herself at the man and screaming loudly, "Murderer! Murderer!"

Before the staff could intervene, Sir stood in one fluid movement and grasped the flailing arms of the incensed woman above her head. He then pulled her close and hissed into her ear just loud enough for me to hear, "Do not judge me for things you know nothing about, Ms. Brown?"

I was amazed. It would seem that these two really did have a connection. What could it all mean? Certainly there couldn't be any credibility to their magical world, could there? Perhaps, they were related...

I froze as I watched the strange couple curiously. Sir reached his long, spidery fingers out to touch Lavender's scarred fleshed along her collarbone which was now exposed beneath her disheveled scrubs. I could see her body cringe at the contact, and then she collapsed weakly at the man's feet sobbing hysterically.

To my astonishment, Sir knelt down beside the young woman and locked eyes with her. "Greyback?" He whispered simply, and she nodded, still in tears. He then extended his hand which she took, and he led her to a seat at the nearby table. He began to pace back and forth.

"Help me, Professor," Lavender whimpered as she drew her knees to her chest.

Sir stopped and looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. "I suppose that was what I was once called. I had forgotten that…" he mumbled with a soft laugh.

"Forgotten?! What? How? I mean…' bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death'… how can you not remember that, Professor?" Lavender protested; her voice was tight with desperation.

A half smile appeared across Sir's face as he paused his movements to consider her words, "Ahhh, yes." His eyes glazed over then, and he suddenly appeared to be lost in memory.

I stepped closer. "Who is he, Ms. Brown?" I whispered as I kneeled in front of her.

She looked over at Sir and sighed, "Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master and dark wizard…one of the most powerful of our time." She paused. "Probably the most powerful now…" Her eyes swelled with tears.

That was the connection. He must have instructed her during school. The timing of their stories matched up. Perhaps he was involved in the same brutal attack that had affected Ms. Brown. Or perhaps he had been the assailant. Now that would be an interesting twist. Could this be a case of folie a deux, shared madness? It was rare but the pieces seemed to fit. I would have to do some further investigation.

Sir, or Mr. Snape, laughed darkly at that comment. "Beware whom you trust Ms. Brown. She seeks to eradicate your memories; to make you as powerless as any ordinary Muggle; and much worse. She does not know your truths and never will. To her you are nothing but a mental patient." His voice was smooth and low, almost hypnotic. I almost found myself beginning to believe his words.

Lavender's eyes widened, and I saw her swallow hard. "He is right. You cannot understand, Dr. Cornwell. I am sorry."

"Make me understand, Lavender. Tell me what happened to you," I urged as I sensed that this encounter with Sir had opened her up, and her reaction to his words only reaffirmed my previous suspicions.

Her eyes were shadowed with frustration. "Fenrir Greyback attacked me during the Battle at Hogwart's after I was cursed off the Astronomy Tower by Death Eaters. I am lucky not to be a werewolf or dead. Instead I am just hideous and dangerous." She yelled with clenched fists and I felt the crackle of electricity in the air around us. The others in the room must have felt it too, because everyone suddenly stopped and stared at Ms. Brown with fear in their eyes.

Magic schools, potion masters, witches, wizards, werewolves; everything this girl said seemed so outrageous. How could I possibly believe her? And yet, as I looked at her, I felt myself wanting to believe her in a way I had never felt with other patients.

Mr. Snape laughed again and looked over at me. For a moment our eyes met, and I felt a chill travel down my spine. It was as though he was able to see into my thoughts; his manner oozed of knowledge. Then he nodded and a slight smile crossed his features before he broke eye contact. A strange uneasiness soaked into my being.

"I told you! I knew you wouldn't believe it!" She spat.

"Alright, Ms. Brown. I am sorry, but it all is a little hard to digest." I paused as I studied Ms. Brown. "Please calm down. I think it is time you returned downstairs." I stood and my patient followed with one last look back at Sir. He had returned to his journal, and so we left him as we found him.

As we passed the nurses' station, I paused to grab Sir's chart. I made a quick note of today's events, including Ms. Brown's theory to his identity. Then I did something highly unusual; I decreased his anti-psychotic dose significantly. Maybe my "Muggle-medicine" really was clouding his mind, or perhaps I was getting drawn in too deep. Regardless, I my curiosity was overruling my better judgment.

Severus Snape 

Lavender Brown. A familiar name. A student. My student. Fenrir Greyback. Hogwarts. Dumbledore. The Dark Lord. Lily. Harry. Lily. The scent of the dungeons. The sound of a simmering cauldron. Spinner's End. A playground. Hogsmeade. Butterbeer. Screams. So many screams. Lily. The smell of charred flesh. A lifeless form on a cottage floor. The pain of Cruciatus. The freedom of a broomstick. The feel of power through a wand. Elf Wine. Lily. Lily. Lily.

A sudden flood of memories hit me like a tidal wave, but they passed by so quickly I could hold none long enough to make any sense of it. I was drowning as I struggled against the current. I felt myself gasp.

I looked down at myself and then around the room. A deranged looking man was having an argument with an unseen opponent. Another man was staring blankly as if frozen. An unattractive woman in the corner was mumbling about government spies in her bedroom. All around me insanity was calling loudly.

It was a strange moment of clarity that I knew would disappear almost as quickly as it came, but at that moment I suddenly realized I did not belong here. I was not crazy. Deep down I had always known that fact. I never trusted these doctors. They knew nothing of what they were dealing with, but somehow they had managed to make me forget. Forget it all…

No, not forget but bury. I had buried the memories and believed them the thoughts of a madman. How long? How much time had passed since…

I reached up to touch my neck.

How had it ended?

I looked down at my forearm. A faded remnant was all the remained of the Dark Mark.

More fragmented memories washed over me. More tortured screams. More unnecessary death.. More pain. So much darkness.

Perhaps it was better to keep it all buried; to feel nothing, to remember nothing and to rot my days away here. Yes, ignorance would be undeserved bliss. Ignorance was my reward.

I sighed as I felt the fog descend upon my mind once again.

Lavender Brown 

My parents were visiting today. I glared at my mother from my perch in the windowsill. "I need my wand. I am going crazy without it..." I saw my mother cringe at the word 'crazy.' I rolled my eyes. "You don't understand. I am going to explode if I don't get a release soon..."

My father snorted. "We heard you already had, Lav..." His eyes were filled with disappointment which stung more deeply than any words he could have possibly spoken.

"Take me out of here," I begged pathetically. "I promise I'll do better. No more outbursts, no more visions, no more suicide attempts...please...please..." My hands gripped the sill tightly as I ignored the desire to fall to my knees in front of them.

My mother was sobbing into my father's chest. My father shook his head sternly as he comforted her. "You know those are promises you can't keep. You need help."

"Send me back to St Mungo's then," I pleaded.

"They have nothing left to offer you. They won't have you back." How could he be so calm? Why couldn't he see how desperate I was?

"Hell, I'll go live with the werewolves then..." I growled and my mother let out a wail which made me cringe in shame. I hated to see her hurting like this, but I hated being here more. Why had they forsaken me? "Seriously...it makes more sense than me being here. These people think I'm crazy for believing in the things that keep me sane...do you have any idea what that is like?"  
"Have you forgotten that both your mother and I are Muggle born? Of course we know what it's like..."

_Touch__é_, I thought. "What do you expect me to do here?"

"Comply with the doctors' orders. Have some faith and maybe something may come of this," my mother said softly between sobs.

"The doctor tells us she has begun a new medication. Give it some time, Dear. Please?" My father added.

Living with the werewolves still seemed like the preferable option, but I chose not to express these thoughts again. I let out a defeated sigh.

My father nodded his approval as my parents stood to leave. "We should keep this visit short. I think it's best for all of us that way."

My mother sniffled as she reached into her bag. "They said you could have this..."

I rolled my eyes again as she handed me a small package. I knew what it was without looking; it was the damned lavender-scented bath soap she always insisted I use. She believed it would help calm and relax me. I think it also reminded her of my childhood, a much more pleasant time for all of us. While I lived at home, the entire house oozed of the scent. It was practically sickening and clearly ineffective otherwise I would still be there instead of here, but I thanked my mother anyway.

With that, my parents left with matching sad glances over their shoulders. I pretended not to notice or care.

As soon as I could hear their footsteps no longer, I collapsed to the floor as emotion overtook me. After several minutes of indulgence, I pulled myself to my feet and wiped the tears from my face before things got out of hand.

Severus Snape 

_I dreamt for the first time in over eight years last night. I dreamt of her. She was alone in our park on her swing. She was unaware of my eyes upon her as she tipped her face towards the sky enjoying the sun on her features. She laughed as she pumped her legs harder and faster, driving the swing higher. Her fiery red hair and pale dress billowed in her wake. I held my breath in anticipation, knowing what she planned. _

_When the swing refused to give any more to her, she freed herself from it. She then flew gracefully through the air to land softly several meters away. She laughed joyfully, and I clapped my hands. _

_Then it was over. Then I woke up. _

I closed the journal and put down the pen with a heavy sigh. Something was different today. I could not quite describe it, but my senses seemed sharper somehow. It was as though the fog in my head was beginning to truly dissipate.

I stood from the bed. Cold. The tile felt cold. I had never noticed before (or maybe I simply never cared before). Yes; something was definitely different.

* * *

A/N: The dream sequence was inspired in part by a work entitled "This is How I Remember You" by *musabenedetta on . I appreciate any feedback you might have. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

Lavender Brown 

I was stuck in that disorientating state between sleeping and wakefulness. I refused to open my eyes and acknowledge the daylight. To do so would be to accept another day of affliction until I could find my way back to sleep, and as the moon waxed so did my insomnia. Even sleep was only a temporary refuge, however, as the dreams quickly destroyed any peace it brought.

Today, as I held my eyes tight, I could not shake the odd sensation of being watched. As my mind pulled further out of unconsciousness, my senses began to confirm my uneasiness. I heard breathing which was not my own, and I smelt a strange masculine body odor. He was close; too close.

As I prepared to pounce free of the bed and away from the intruder, I felt his presence beside me, and a hand slipped over my mouth. "Shh, Ms. Brown," A low voice whispered as I struggled. "I mean you no harm. Please be calm."

I recognized that voice immediately as it had been emblazoned into my memory years ago – Professor Snape. I pushed the hand away as I sat up. "Why are you here?" I spat angrily. How dare he?!

"How did it end?" There was a strange desperation behind the words as he blatantly ignored my question. He sat stiffly in the chair beside the bed with his eyes locked onto me as he awaited my response.

"How did what end, Professor?" My mind searched for meaning to his question as I felt my eyebrows knit together in confusion, but I found only more questions.

"The Battle, Foolish Girl; how did it end?" He looked uncharacteristically anxious with his elbows on his knees and his hands supporting his chin as he stared at me. He seemed unnaturally stiff and yet restless at that same time. It was unnerving to see, so I looked away. His insults did not help my sour mood, but I decided to humor his question.

"Oh…well, I am not sure exactly – only that everyone thought Harry had been killed only he wasn't really. Then Neville destroyed that dreadful snake, and Harry finished off You-Know-Who." I sighed. If only I had been there at the end instead of curled up in agony beneath the Astronomy Tower praying for death.

"So Potter lives," he hissed and then gave an amused sounding snort as he stood to pace near the chair. "Longbottom," he snorted again. "...I always knew he had it in him," he mumbled. "And Hogwarts?"

"Still there, but vastly different than before I hear." I chewed my bottom lip. Why did he care? He had brought about its downfall. "Without Dumbledore…"

I saw Snape' jaw clench as he drew back from me. "Things are not always as they seem, Ms. Brown," he mumbled cryptically as he sat again.

"Then explain what it is I have missed, Sir. Explain to me why my last year at Hogwarts was filled with lies and Unforgivables. Explain to me why half of my friends were forced to become renegades instead of graduates. Explain to me how killing Dumbledore and then replacing him is something other than what it seems. And while you are at it, explain why the hell you are in my room anyway!" I felt my muscles tense as my eyes narrowed. How much I longed to physically lash out at the man. He was just was much to blame for my predicament as anyone else. For now though, verbal sparring would have to do.

"I will not." He stood quickly and turned to leave with all the flourish I remembered from days passed. The movements were not as intimidating without the black flurry of fabric to emphasize them, but the message was still clear; he was done with me.

The old Lavender would have let him go. "How dare you!" I stood from the bed and raced him to the door, blocking his exit.

"Step aside," his voice was stern as his eyes locked on mine in challenge. I was caught off guard by the emptiness reflected in the glare. The contrast between his words and his eyes were night and day. I stifled a gasp as I glared back at him, refusing to back down.

He stepped back slowly with a sigh. "You have also changed Ms. Brown." He shook his head. "But such is the nature of war."

He had been inside my head. Did he have no regard for privacy? I watched as he moved back towards the chair.

"You are my first connection to the wizarding world since the Battle. I have wondered these questions for eight years." He sighed again. "But now that you have answered them, I suppose it is only fair that I address yours."

I stepped closer to him then as I carefully maintained my position between him and the door. Depression leached from him like bad cologne. It was so thick I could almost taste it. "So then, what don't I understand about Professor Dumbledore's death?"

"It was prearranged between us." Snape replied stoically as he stared out the window.

"You mean, he knew you planned to kill him? Allowed it even?" My voice was filled with disbelief.

"Yes," he replied in a strained tone that revealed much more than the word itself. I could tell he was replaying some memory in his mind as his gaze lost focus and glazed over.

"But, but…why?" I moved to sit on the side of the bed as I attempted to wrap my head around his words; spoken and unspoken. Suddenly, I was jealous of his Legilimens ability.

His dark eyes locked on mine as he pulled himself from his thoughts. "The entire reason requires a rather complicated and exhausting explanation," he droned as his fingers clenched the chair. "But the important part is that he was already dying. Nothing could be done to stop it and he wanted his death to accomplish something." He sighed yet again as if it was the only way he had left to express any sort of emotion.

I considered his words for a long time as we both sat in silence. It had to have been dark magic to have been able to break the Mighty Dumbledore. But considering his many enemies, that was very likely.

"Am I free to leave now, Ms. Brown?" He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at me.

I nodded. "Yes, of course… unless you wish to stay?" It was a relief to have someone to speak with whom actually believed me. Being among so many doubters was causing me to doubt myself.

He sat back into the chair silently as he pressed his fingertips together thoughtfully.

I glared at him. "Get out of my head," I growled.

"Impressive," he whispered mostly to himself. "For a Gryffindor…"

Severus Snape

I watched her. I had been inside her head; it was a mine field. Each thought threatened to set her off as she struggled desperately to maintain control. Every emotion and every sense was intensified to a level that made it overwhelming to me even in small doses. She felt more in each instant that I had felt since The Battle.

"Why are you here, Ms. Brown?"

"Because St. Mungo's failed me…" her words were like acid. "And I have no where else left…"

"St. Mungo's found nothing for you?" I raised an eyebrow. Then I cursed myself as my restless body forced me to pace again.

"Nothing." Her eyes followed my movements suspiciously.

Immediately my brain began to assemble a multitude of ingredients for a potion; aconite, powdered moonstone, hellebore, peppermint… my mind struggled through its drug-induced walls, but my thoughts flowed more freely today than any I could remember since arriving at this place.

"And the Wolfsbane had no affect on you?" I inquired as I returned to the chair. They must have tried that already as it was the obvious thing to do.

"None other than to make me violently ill." She shuddered visibly. "Nor did any of their attempted alterations of the potion." She sighed and looked down at her fingers seemingly lost in some memory.

I was not even tempted to enter her mind again even though I was curious to her thoughts. I did not have the clarity to navigate those rapids. I instead chose to observe her closely. I noticed her nails had been chewed down to the point of bleeding. Her scrubs hung loosely about her insignificant frame, and her hair was wild and choppy appearing as though she had cut it herself. Her skin was dull and sallow with sad gray eyes to match. A scar traced across her left cheekbone matching those I had seen along her collarbone during our last meeting. All in all, she was rather a pathetic sight, and strangely enough it stirred some sort of emotional response within me. Pity perhaps? I was not sure.

I struggled to remember what she had looked like before. I could not. I did not even know how I had recognized her before. She could not have appeared this way back then. I would have noticed a student like that; marked by suffering. Those types always stood out to me.

"There is nothing left for me..."

Her despair painfully echoed in my head. I stood then. I could not handle being near Ms. Brown any longer. I needed to get away. I longed for the mind fog to return. I _needed_ it to return, but as long as I was in her presence I knew the fog would never come. "I must take my leave now. Thank you for time."

As I approached the door I heard her call after me not to go just yet. I stopped and glared at the her as my temper started to boil. "I find your presence unpleasant."

"Need I remind you that it was you that came to my room, Professor?" She stood from the bed.

"And I have gotten what I needed so now I leave. Is that so difficult to understand?" I snapped.

"Strange that you find _me_ unpleasant – it is I that should find your presence difficult, don't you think?" She snapped back, suddenly standing beside me.

I pressed closer to the absurd woman, "You remind me of everything I wish to forget!" I shoved her against the wall with more force than was necessary and took the opportunity to leave without looking back. My head was spinning.

As I stormed through the halls to my own room, I allowed the anger to overtake me. It felt strangely comforting to know I was still capable of such emotion.

Lavender Brown

The next morning I awoke from another restless night again to the presence of Professor Snape beside my bed. I rolled my eyes as I sat up. "Get out," I hissed with all the hatred I could muster.

"I have come to apologize for my behavior yesterday," he stated with a true hint of sincerity.

"Sod off. I do not wish to be your reminder. Go back to your oblivion." I stood from bed and moved to stare out the window with my back poignantly turned to the former professor. My eyes automatically searched the horizon for the pale orb I sensed intuitively was gaining size.

"If only," he sighed.

There was a long silence that neither of us interrupted. I watched him from the corner of my eye anxiously. He had said more words to me in two mornings than during my entire time at Hogwart's. It was disconcerting to have a man I one time feared on a primitive level, like one does a snake or a bear, sitting in my bedroom apologizing to me. I still did not trust him, and I did not want to accept his apology.

"How can you stand it?" He questioned me finally.

Was that genuine interest in his tone? I turned to stare at him. "What do you mean?" I questioned back. I wondered why he was being so cryptic. It was as though he was forgetting to speak things aloud and expected me to know what was going on behind those empty eyes.

He tapped his temple twice and then knitted his long fingers in front of him. His eyes bore into me as he waited for a response.

"Oh…" I chewed on my lower lip, a nervous habit. "I can't…I don't…I… I haven't been this sober in six years to be honest." I stared down at my hands as I picked at the skin near my ragged nails. I had never spoken of my drinking aloud before. It sounded so vile. I was ashamed.

He simply nodded in response. Something told me he could relate.

"Why are you here, Professor?" I queried.

"I already stated that I mean to apologize. Do you enjoy making me repeat such words?" His eyes narrowed.

"No, I mean. Why are you here, at St. Dymphna's? Surely, you know you don't belong here any more than I do."

"I haven't the motivation to go elsewhere," he replied bluntly.

"You like being trapped here?"

"Why is it any of your concern?" He snapped.

"It isn't really, but I see myself headed down the same path and would prefer to avoid that.."

"At least the question was selfish. I would hate to think you actually felt any concern for my well being." He sneered sarcastically.

"I despise you. Why would your well being be any of my concern?" I rolled my eyes.

He snorted. "It was never my intention to survive... once I realized I did survive, I did not care enough to remedy it. Before I could gather myself enough to care, their Muggle mind poisons had taken effect, and I no longer believed I had anywhere else to go."

"So you are just going to spend the rest of your days here?" I quizzed as I watched him.

"I don't see why I should spend them anywhere else, or why you have any interest in the matter." His voice was flat.

"Once again, it was you that came to my room so leave if you do not wish for conversation. You are the only person I have spoken to in nearly a week who doesn't think I am insane. Forgive me for taking advantage of that." I sighed. At least this verbal sparing was keeping my anxiety in check. Still, I found myself tense.

"What makes you believe that I find you sane?" His lip twitched in a way that hinted at a smile and his eyes brightened for an instant before returning to their previous emptiness.

"Because you felt it necessary to apologize. No one apologizes to a mental case."

"Except perhaps another mental case..." He huffed in apparent amusement.

"Speaking of mental, am I to expect waking up to you every morning, Professor? Because I must be honest, it is not a pleasant thought. Thinking of you watching me sleep..." I shivered.

He chuckled lowly. "Perhaps, Ms. Brown. Or perhaps I will wait for you to awaken next time."

"So I should prepare myself for future visits?" I was not sure how I felt about the prospect. He made it quite clear already how he felt about my presence.

"Perhaps."

"Dammit, quit being so cryptic. Just tell me what you want with me," I demanded in frustration. I had enough of the games.

He stood. "Must I apologize a third time in order for you to understand the reason for my visit."

"Fine! You are forgiven. Now leave. Go find your self-torture elsewhere!" My temper was raising within. The inevitable emotional eruption was beginning and things would get messy soon.

"As you wish!" He stood up quickly and stormed from the room without another word.

A/N: I can only improve with your help. Please review. I promise to respond to every review personally. Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

Dr Cornwell

I knew it was ridiculous, but that fact did not stop me from doing it every month. The full moon was approaching, and anyone that worked in the world of mental illness at least partially believed the superstitious notion that this day was usually worse than others. While there was obviously no credible science to back me up, I still did not hesitate to increase my security patrol inside the building on the night of the full moon (or Friday the thirteenth for that matter).

"Doctor, you know this means I have to pull some of the men from the outside patrol to cover this increase," the Chief of Security stated as I explained my plans.

We had this same conversation every month. "I am aware but unconcerned as usual. There has never even been an attempt of escape from this facility. All the windows are locked and only a secured badge can get you through the front door. One guard posted at the only outside entrance point is plenty."

"You're the boss, Ma'am. I'll have the other two officers posted inside for this evening as you desire."

"Thank you." I replied shortly.

To be honest, I was more concerned this time around than in the past. Ms. Brown's lunar preoccupation had me extremely worried. She had been the catalyst for a lot of drama since her arrival and the episodes only seemed to escalate as the full moon grew closer, just as she had warned. Luckily, most of the other patients now feared her, creating less opportunity for conflict. Luther had not given up yet, however, and he was now frequently the target of her outbursts.

Last night, I wished I would have heeded her wishes to be locked inside her bedroom for the evening. She told me she simply could not trust herself during these few days, but I ignored her pleas. As we were gathered for the evening meal, Lavender requested she be able to go back to her room early due to a headache, but I could not spare the staff to escort her there so I insisted she stay. She obliged and sat silently with her eyes tight swaying slightly in her chair as she rubbed her temples.

Suddenly, Luther stood up from his seat several tables away from Ms. Brown. He glared right at her and laughed, "I ain't falling for your tricks this time, Witch"

The woman opened her eyes narrowly to glare at her taunter as a low growl emanated from deep within her chest.

In an instant, the offish man started charging towards her. The staff attempted to stop him, but his aim was set, and he was determined to hit his target. The formerly calm room erupted with commotion. Chairs tipped and food flew as several patients attempted to move out of the way, and cries of pain echoed through the room as other patients suddenly seemed to also have headaches.

As for Ms Brown, she reflexively stood from her chair and stepped onto the round table towards the oncoming attack. Her movements were almost catlike, and her eyes remained focused on Luther as her body tensed. But as she pounced into Luther's path, she was almost casually grasped around the waist and pulled to the ground by Mr. Snape even as she kicked and flailed. He whispered something to her under his breath. She then roughly shoved him with a hiss in return but seemed to forget about Luther as she retreated towards a corner like a scolded puppy.

Upon seeing all of this, Luther stopped his approach. The two men exchanged angry glares. For a long, tense moment they seemed to size each other up like roosters in front of the hen house. It seemed as though every breath in the room was being held, including my own, until finally Luther backed away with an angry scoff. Then came a collective sigh of relief as everyone settled back into the dinner routine.

I had started to form a psychiatric opinion of Ms Brown after over a week of observing her carefully. She was a complicated case to say the least. I suspected post-traumatic stress disorder superimposed on bipolar disorder with psychotic features. Her best chance at successful treatment would include cognitive therapy as well as a combination of a mood stabilizer, an antidepressant, and possibly an anti-psychotic medication. It was a heavy-hitting regime, but I had hope for her as long as she would actively participate in her therapy. Unfortunately, she had been very closed off lately. It was as though all the walls I had worked so hard to break through had returned.

Personally, I blamed Mr Snape for her walls although I did not really have good reason for it. I had not actually seen them together since their introduction a few days ago, but he had taken an interest in the girl. I knew because I had found her private records in his room as well as some of my personal psychiatry and anatomy texts. When I asked him about these items, he simply sneered but said nothing in response. Although, I was less than happy about his invasion of my private space, it was a relief to seem him take interest in something other than the scribbles in his notebook for once. Perhaps altering his drug regimen had been beneficial.

Tonight, Lavender Brown was locked in her room and dinner was delivered to her. I shouldn't play into her games, but until I managed to control her psychosis, I refused to risk the safety of my other patients.

Lavender Brown 

I awoke suddenly, alone and cold in the small dark room. I fumbled around for the light and revealed the sterile, ivory colored room. My heart was pounding from the horrifying images I had experienced in my sleep. They weren't nightmares exactly, more like flashbacks – graphic, exaggerated, memories. It was always the same; gruesome teeth inching closer and closer, his breath warm against my skin, his smell in my nostrils, and those scorching pains in my side. The memories always returned with a vengeance as the moon grew fuller. Usually I just didn't sleep during the three days surrounding the full moon, but the medications I received here left me little choice. Why would they force this upon me? I did not ask for sleep. I did not complain. I was happy to pace the room for hours on these nights.

I glanced around the room. Something felt "off." Then I realized a cool breeze against my skin. I inhaled deeply as my body tingled in pleasure and desperate need. The room was scented of wildflowers, a welcome relief from the nauseating smell of bleach, which always seemed to permeate within the walls of the institution. I licked my lips and inhaled again. I looked around the room again. The door was closed tightly and seemed to remain locked from the outside. I was alone, thankfully.

Following the source of the scent, I stood and approached the window. The lock had been shattered and window hung loose on its hinges, swinging in the breeze. I touched the glass and swung the window open wide. I then glanced over the sill. I was several floors up, but there was an old fire escape, and it beckoned to me as I was suddenly filled with the urge to run free and aimlessly through the countryside.

As I was about to pounce onto the window sill to make my escape, I was abruptly overcome with a powerful image which caused me to stop completely.

_A man with unruly dark locks and glasses dressed in dark robes walked the streets arm-in-arm with a lovely red-headed woman. They seemed distantly familiar and yet not. Then two flashes of green and the two lay motionless on the cobblestones as three masked figures disappeared among the crowd. There was chaos and a woman cried out, "Oh goodness no! Harry Potter is dead!" A waning crescent moon hung in the morning sky, barely visible above the roof of the Leaky Cauldron. _

I gasped and shuddered violently as I once again struggled to calm my racing pulse as the vision faded into memory. I looked out my window towards the sky. I already knew what I would see; the full moon glowed brightly as it always did when these visions took hold of me.

My first instinct was to laugh. Served them right! I bet those selfish twits did not even know I had survived the War. Neither visited me while I spent months slowly bleeding to death from my cursed wounds in the wards of St Mungo's. Neither acknowledged my contributions during the War. Hell, Harry probably did not even realize I had contributed, he was so caught up in himself. I gritted my teeth in fiery. Why should I care about their survival when they clearly had no regard for mine?

I forced a deep breath then as I unclenched my fists. Those were only half-truths, I had to admit to myself. Hermione and Ron had both visited me while I convalesced. Even after I had sent them away twice without seeing them, they returned and extended gratitude and apologies from Harry and Ginny. Harry was none-too-well himself at that point and Ginny was caught between grieving for her lost family and friends and helping Harry work through his own dark demons. I did receive an invitation to their wedding, so they hadn't completely forgotten my existence. They were simply moving on with their own. I could not fault them for that.

I stared at the beastly moon again. I had two weeks to warn the Potters. I had to leave now if there was any hope of saving them. London was a long ways from Manchester, especially without a wand or a broom or a port key. And I knew as the moon began to wane, so too would I.

I looked towards the ground. An impossibly tall fence topped with barbed-wire lined the perimeter beyond which were lush looking fields. The institution felt more like a prison than ever, but none-the-less, it was a prison I must escape tonight.

I ran to the bedside, flipped off the lamp, and then tucked some pillows beneath the bed-sheets to create a convincing sleeping form. I felt like I was back in Hogwarts sneaking out of the dormitory to meet some boy after hours. Unfortunately, there would be no lustful lad awaiting me tonight. It wouldn't matter anyway. He would run the other way as soon as clothing began to disappear. They always did these days.

I growled at myself angrily as I tried to remind myself of the task at hand. There was no time for self-pity, but how lovely it would be to have a warm body to press against, lush lips to taste, and....No, those days were over for me despite the incredible yearning that filled my depths near the full moon.

I stepped into the window and then out onto the fire escape, holding my breath as the structure seemed to sway with my weight. I was never more grateful for the ugly beige hospital socks with the non-slip bottoms as I was at the moment. I glanced at the ladder leading downwards as I nervously prepared to descend, and I wondered what sort of security this place possessed.

I was overcome with self-doubt, then. I would never succeed with this alone. I wasn't strong enough or clever enough. I needed help. An unwelcome thought occurred; there was one other in this institution whom may be able to help. I shook my head as I glanced at the windows of the floor above me. Light glowed brightly from only one window, the one I knew belonged to Professor Snape.

I really was insane. I sighed as I grabbed the ladder and headed up to the next floor. I quietly climbed towards the lit window and then peered in cautiously. The Professor sat on his bed scribbling in his notebook fiercely with books sprawled out around him.

I chewed my bottom lip anxiously as I considered my next move. How could I get his attention without alarming him or anyone else? Then how would I get the window open when I did nof even know how I had gotten my own window open? Finally, how would I convince him to actually help me?

I took a deep breath and then gently taped on the glass.

His dark eyes quickly darted to the window and narrowed in suspicion as they locked on mine. I shuddered involuntarily.

He then stood quickly and approached the glass. He looked amused as he shook his head. To my amazement, he pushed open the window as if the lock did not exist. "What do you think you are doing, Ms. Brown?" His sardonic voice echoed in my ears.

"Leaving," I forced out boldly.

"Well you are headed the wrong direction then. I believe the ground is that way," the Professor pointed a finger out the window and towards the ground to emphasize his point. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Unless you plan to fly away." He was teasing me.

"I am quite aware of which direction the ground is, Sir." I struggled to hold strength in my words. Professor Snape's presence had always caused me to question myself regardless of the situation. "I was hoping you may be interested in joining me." I mentally cringed as I awaited his reaction.

He laughed. He actually laughed in seemingly true amusement at my offer. "Go back to bed, Ms. Brown." He turned from the window swiftly. In my mind, I imagined his black robes swirling about him.

"Would it make a difference if I told you it was a matter of life or death?" I pressed, stunned that I managed to avoid sounding as if I were begging. I was begging, of course. There was no way I could manage to get myself safely to Diagon Alley alone. It must be at least 300 kilometers from here.

"Not even if it were my own life," he retorted.

I snorted. Maybe Snape did deserve this place after all. I turned to leave. Clearly this was a lost cause. I would have to attempt this task on my own.

"Where will you go, Ms. Brown?" Snape sneered after me. He was clearly amused by my situation.

"Home to get my wand. Then to London to save Harry and Ginny." I began to descend the ladder.

There was silence. I looked up and saw the Potions Master staring absently off into the darkness.

"A full moon…" he mumbled under his breath finally. I felt myself shudder at those words. He looked down towards me and then swung his legs over the window sill.

"Your home is the first place they will search for you." He began to descend above me. I decided it would be unwise to question his actions.

"Do you have a better suggestion, Sir? I am powerless as I am." I glanced up at the moon as I spoke knowing the words to be slightly inaccurate especially considering their timing..

"You are mistaken. You are not powerless. You simply lack control." He too glanced out at the glowing orb in the distance again.

I considered his words for a long moment. It seemed logical that in my flustered emotional state I could have unknowingly blown the locks and hinges of my window. I had done worse in the past - much worse. But how did one gain control without a wand?

When my stocking feet finally touched ground, I crouched as I glanced around. The compound was fairly unguarded it seemed other than the unclimbable fence. My mind swirled desperately for some sort of plan.

I felt Snape's eyes on me as he joined me on the ground causing another chill through my spine.

Severus Snape 

The air was thin. I glanced up at the sky. It was an eery night; the kind that seemed to call you by name Perhaps I was just being dramatic after spending eight years inside the prison that was St. Dymphna's, but I had a strange feeling that something big was about to begin. I ran my fingers through my hair roughly as I felt my skin begin to crawl. I never wanted to be rid of this place more than I did at that moment. It did not matter where I ended up as long as it was anywhere else.  
"I don't think I really thought this through…" Ms. Brown muttered as she looked around cautiously.

"I have," I responded impulsively. In fact, I knew exactly what to do, had known it for many years, and now that I had an accomplice and the motivation, my plan could be implicated. It was ironic really. I knew of the change in security that occurred each month during the full moon, but it was not I that instigated this escape on this particular night.

I turned to look at Ms. Brown. She was crouched like a wolf on the hunt. Her eyes were wide and her body was tense. As she considered my words, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. I could almost imagine the hair standing tall along the back of her neck. She looked as though she could howl at any moment.

"There is a single guard posted at the front gate. As you are clearly the most physically capable among the two of us, Ms. Brown, I believe it best that you attempt a distraction of the guard. Lead him away from the gate to the opposite side of the yard and return quickly to the gate before he realizes he has been deceived. By then, I should have the gate unlocked and we should be free of this place." It sounded like a rather simple plan, but I knew in reality that timing would be critical if we were to make our escape unnoticed until morning. That would be the ideal situation. However, even a slight head start would be tolerable as they would have no idea in which direction we were headed.

She nodded quickly and almost immediately took off at a quick yet silent pace towards the guard shack while I waited in the shadows. She cleverly reached and grabbed a handful of gravel from the ground and threw it into a set of bushes distant from both of our locations.

Of course the guard responded by shining his lantern in the direction of the sound. The next pile of gravel landed a bit further away, and the beam of light followed the sound. The guard continued to hold his post at the gate seemingly conflicted about how to approach the situation. When a third rustle of bushes occurred, however, he turned to the gate to assure it was secured before leaving the area to investigate. Meanwhile Ms Brown continued to move him further and further from the gate with her antics of rock throwing and running through the yard just beyond the reach of the lantern's beam.

I almost smiled to myself over the ease of this escape as I quickly approached the gate. After hours, the gate was closed both manually and electrically. First I approached the padlock across the gate. A quick "_Alohomora_" under my breath and the lock and chain fell to the ground. I did the same to the lock on the guard shack door. Such fools to think something so simple could be considered secure. Once I noticed Ms Brown's quick approach in my direction, I reached into the small shack and pressed the red button that unlocked the magnets and commanded the gate to creek open automatically.

Without a word, I hit the button again to cause the gate to slowly return to the closed and locked position. Before it was able to close completely we dashed through the opening. A quick look around the institution yard revealed the lone guard to still be searching the far opposite end of the compound for the source of the disturbance so I quickly replaced the chain and lock onto the gate. The guard would know nothing was awry until it was much too late to catch us. I laughed internally.

As I turned from the gate, I found Ms. Brown suddenly very close. She paused there for a long, awkward moment, her body rigid. She leaned in to me slightly and inhaled deeply as her eyes closed, and I could smell something like a mixture of lavender and mint in the heat emanating from her body. Then she stepped away quickly, a flush on her cheeks, and appeared to be mentally chastising herself as she gritted her teeth and shook her head.

"We should go," I responded stiffly and began a quick pace down the edge of the paved road as I tried not to think about what had just occurred.

We walked for several minutes before we came to a bridge crossing a small creek about two kilometers from the gate. I watched as Ms. Brown jumped over the side and in to the water below. I raised an eyebrow as I looked down at her.

"They will have dogs. Less scent if we walk the creek for a while. We will be more difficult to track once they notice our disappearance." She took off in a southerly direction passing beneath the bridge along the creek bed.

It was a logical plan, and I found myself mildly impressed with the idea. I was unsure where this plan would leave us in the morning, but honestly finding myself anywhere else but St. Dymphna's would be a welcome change, so I jumped into the creek. The cool water lapped at my shins as I moved, and the summer breeze was alive around us. I felt energized. I felt powerful with the elements surrounding me. I felt unstoppable... I suppressed a smile.

A/N: Thoughts? If so, please share. Good or bad, I don't care!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry for the long absence. Hopefully, my renewed inspiration will keep this piece moving forward. Thank you for your support!

Dr Cornwell

"What do you mean there is no sign of them anywhere? The only way out of this place is locked down, and that key remained in the night guard's pocket all night. They must be within the gates somewhere. Search again!" I demanded as I felt my frustration build. This could not be happening. This institution was over one hundred years old with no history of escape. I refused to believe the first would happen under my watch. "Have you checked the roof? The empty rooms? The kitchen? The storage rooms? The stairwells?"

"Yes Ma'am, we've searched the entire complex twice. I've got every guard, every nurse, even the janitors in today working to find them, and there is nothing to find. The open windows seem to indicate they left the building, at the very least. We have no other leads though. It is as if they disappeared in to thin air..."

"...like magic..." I mumbled under my breath and then cursed my gullibility. They had to be here. There was no other _logical _explanation.

"We should alert law enforcement. As wider search should be started, the sooner the better." The Chief of Security replied stoically not seeming to have heard me. I knew he was secretly thinking, "I told you so" which only frustrated me further.

"I suppose you are right. It seems impossible, but if they have managed to leave the complex, they must be on foot and could not have gotten far. Alert the authorities." I sighed as I rubbed my temples. Why me?

"Yes, Ma'am. I will send full descriptions of the two escapees immediately." He paused for a long moment before adding, "Do you consider them dangerous?"

I sighed again. Such a simple question to him but not for myself. "Only if provoked, I think." I hope.

"I'll request that they bring out the dogs then. We will find them by lunchtime, if I were to guess, Ma'am." The Chief turned and left the room to begin his mission.

That was a welcome thought. This incident would quickly come to a close and things would return to normal. At least it better end quickly. Mr. Snape had a long history of antipsychotic use in heavy doses, and even though I had recently scaled back his regimen, he was likely to suffer some severe withdrawal symptoms or relapse into another severe psychotic state. Lavender was not in any better shape, and I feared she may become violent if not apprehended soon.

I questioned why I ever introduced these two in the first place. The only real gain I could see was the "Sir" now had a name, and an accurate one at that. After Lavender had identified the man, I was able to use the information to locate a property in Manchester in his name. Unfortunately, Mr. Snape had no identifiable next of kin and very little other information was available on the man. Even the authorities found very little additional details. If it wasn't for the small piece of land in his name, it would be as if he did not exist.

At least very little information had been available through my usual means... A thought occurred to me as I sat at my desk nervously tapping my fingertips on the keyboard in front of me. I pulled up a web browser window and quickly placed 'Severus Snape' into the search engine box. I have no idea what I was hoping would come of this silly exercise, but at least I as doing _something_.

Amazingly, over 100 hits come back , and began to wonder just how deep this mystery really was. My eyes quickly scanned the numerous lines of electronic text jumping automatically to worlds like "evil," "murderer," "Death Eater," and the frequently repeated name of "Professor Dumbledore." I clicked open the first link. It was a blog by someone with the screen name "HogwartsInsider." I scanned the first couple of entries. From the writing style, I felt it was written by a child, and assumed it to be some sort of fantasy character or creative writing project or something from the mention of broomsticks and potions. Not helpful, so I moved to the next link. It was another blog of sorts by "MuggleWitMagic." I paused to reread. There was that word again – Muggle. And again I found mention of potions as well as "classes" such as ancient runes and divination and another writing style that was clearly youthful and not quite matured. I pulled open the third link titled, "A Guide for the Muggle Parents of Magical Children" and found the "Who's Who of Hogwarts." I pulled up the link for "Professor" Snape, but the page no longer existed. I sighed. Of course it couldn't be that simple.

Frustrated, I clicked the window closed. There was just so much nonsense and yet so many similarities. It must be some sort of roleplaying game or video game culture. These writers couldn't possible be suggesting these things were true. Perhaps _that_ was the link between Ms. Brown and Mr. Snape. They were both involved in this same fantasy culture and their diseased minds had lost touch with reality. With the internet bringing people together in ways like never before, it could be entirely possible that my two patients had formed just such a relationship. This theory satisfied my curiosity for now, and it seemed like a breakthrough of sorts. I planned to pursue the issue further once I had them back in my hospital.

The Chief of Security returned to my office then. "Doctor, the local authorities are on their way. They have sent notice to the authorities of the surrounding towns. Anything else we need to know?"

"Yes, Mr. Snape owns property in Manchester. It might be a possible destination." I choose not to mention the internet search for the time being. I needed more time to figure out what it all could mean. "I will also be alerting Ms. Brown's parents. They may have thoughts on where she may be headed." I cringed internally at the thought of that conversation. It had taken a lot of convincing to get Lavender's parents to trust me enough to release her care to me. This news would shatter that trust completely. They would likely remove their daughter from my care; just when I was starting to get somewhere with her.

Lavender Brown

We walked silently through the shallow water. I strained painfully to keep a slow pace even though I wanted nothing more than to run freely down the creek and into the darkness shrieking like an animal the entire way. I wondered silently if the professor knew the thoughts going through my head. Did he know I was struggling to decide whether to tear him limb from limb or tear him free of his clothing? Did he know I was secretly reveling in the thought of doing either? Did he know how his scent was drifting on the breeze and mingling deliciously with the scent of damp earth? Or how I could hear the rhythmic steady beat of his heart and the slightly labored pattern of his breathing? I picked up my pace. I needed to distance myself before I did something terrible. The thoughts persisted, however, and I cringed as I thought of what may have happened had I still been in St Dymphna's at this moment.

I paused as my hands dug into my hair and tugged at my scalp. I needed to stay focused, but focus was impossible in the face of this itch I could not scratch, or at least _should_ not scratch. These thoughts were wrong on so many different levels. He was much too old, much too stubborn, much too annoying, and much too _Professor_ _Snape_ to consider such things. Plus, there wasn't time for such distractions, and I most definitely would be disgusted in myself afterward. Of course, he would never have me anyway so it did not matter. Merlin, why was I even considering these things now? Harry and Ginny were depending on me, and they did not even realize it. In two weeks, they would be dead unless I could manage to overcome this madness and walk across most of England to reach them. And even if I made it that far, which was highly unlikely, there was still the matter of dealing with the would be killers without a wand.

"What is it?" A deep voice behind me asked. I groaned as I let the sound echo in my head for a moment. It was hypnotic to my exaggerated senses.

"Ms. Brown?" He questioned with a tone of genuine concern that actually surprised me.

"It's nothing," I replied stiffly through gritted teeth and resumed my pace.

"As you wish. But might I request you slow your pace a bit. Unless your intent is to leave me behind?"

Stop talking! I screamed in my head. "I will try..." I mumbled knowing it would be near impossible. Immediately my eyes scanned the darkness for some sort of distraction or at least a plan for our next move. We couldn't follow this creek forever.

"We should change directions soon to avoid populated areas. They will likely send word of our disappearance to local authorities in the morning. We do not want to be easily recognizable," Snape stated.

"Hard to avoid with St. Dymphna's stamped all over us," I responded as I looked down on the letters running down the leg of my scrubs. I knew the hospital initials were also posted across my back. We were a dead giveaway even if no one knew of our escape.

Snape snorted his agreement, a thankfully unappealing sound, giving me a momentary break in my distressing thoughts. "If we keep east will we will eventually enter the Peak District. Travel will be more difficult but the people should be fewer..."

"I love the Peak District..." I spewed quickly. It was a silly, pointless thing to say considering our circumstances, but I couldn't help myself as my mind flooded with the many happy memories. My parents had taken me there often as a child, and I had taken riding lessons there during my summers. Those times seems so far gone now. As I reminisced silently of camping trips and trail rides, I suddenly realized how utterly unprepared we were for this journey. We had nothing; no tents, no blankets, no food, not even a map to guide us. The Peak District was filled with hills, woodlands, pastures, and moorlands as well as many small towns and the occasional estate property. This time of year it would be heavy with tourists as well. "We haven't a chance of succeeding in this, do we Professor?"

"None, but it is certainly better than the alternative..." he replied with no attempt to hide the bleakness from his words as he stepped from the creek onto the grass.  
I swallowed hard as I also stepped from the water onto the shore. "Wonderful. Thanks for the pep talk..." As if I had expected anything else. I rolled my eyes.

"At least we have a head start," he offered flatly.

"Yeah, well there's that." I mumbled as I took a moment to glance behind us and found myself surprised. Even with the full moon light brightening the darkness and my enhanced vision, there was no bridge in sight. I scanned the horizon in front of us, twenty minutes out, and we were already lost...and soon so would be my self control. I groaned internally as I tried to avoid eye contact with the moon.

Severus Snape

There was an odd tension in the air I could not quite identify. I watched Ms. Brown attentively. Something told me she wasn't entirely in control, and I should not turn my back on her, even for a moment. My suspicions were confirmed as I watched her step from the water. "Is everything alright, Ms. Brown?" I questioned suspiciously.

"Of course, why wouldn't they be?" She snapped back quickly with a fiery glare.

I cleared my throat and motioned towards her feet from which steam was slowing rising upwards. Clearly, something quite heated was going on inside the witch's thoughts. Even in the darkness, I could see her flush in embarrassment. Interesting.

"Nevermind that!" she hissed.

"So be it," I chuckled slightly as I marched forward. My joints ached. My worn out body hadn't seen this much physical activity since the Final Battle, and it did not miss the opportunity to complain. My stocking covered feet ached, as did my knees, and my hips popped with every other step. My young companion, in comparison, appeared to be restless as she walked at the forcefully slow pace ahead of my.

We pressed on without any real plan, a disconcerting feeling. My previous infusion of power had drained, and now the longer we walked, the more I began to doubt the rash decision to follow this witch. She was crazy after all, half werewolf even. Each time I considered turning back, however, I realized I had no where else to go. I could never again return to my ignorant bliss. The reawakened power within forbade that. Not again.

So through the darkness I followed her. We remained silent for most of the journey as our feet crunched through the uncut grass, and our pants became wet with dew. Even though it was summer, there was a chill on the breeze that only emphasized the perspiration building beneath my shirt begging me to shiver. I ignored it, keeping my eyes focused on the SDPH branded across Ms. Brown's back.

The hike soon became cathartic, as my thoughts reached a stillpoint. We marched on for what felt like hours. I followed the tense form several paces ahead of me and listened to the sounds of night all around me. These were the sounds I had once found my solace in, standing next to the Black Lake after hours at Hogwarts, and long since forgotten.

My peace was suddenly interrupted, in the early hours of the morning. Just as the moon was starting to move low on the horizon, Ms. Brown stopped suddenly. I could hear her mumbling under her breath as she swung around to stare in my direction. Her eyes were wide, and her face twisted in discomfort as our gaze met. I froze, unsure, and waited. I noticed her rapid breathes and her clenched fists. I cocked my head and raised an eyebrow to question her.

"No, I ...it isn't right..." she groaned through gritted teeth as she pulled her eyes away and looked towards the moon. Then she burst into a sprint without looking back. I stood still, caught in confusion for half a moment as I watched her gracefully maneuver the tall brush. I attempted to follow, but I could only keep such a pace for a short time before I was forced by my aching lungs and tangled legs to return to a walk. As I caught my breath, I looked around, wondering what had set her off. I sensed nothing, and when I glanced ahead again, Ms. Brown had disappeared over the horizon.

I decided it best to continue on as planned. What else could I do?

So I walked towards to eastern horizon at a pace I could handle. Feeling older now than ever in my life, I walked one foot in front of the other until I fell back into my collected rhythm again.

Several hours had passed from my best guess when the sun finally started to show itself. At this point I had almost forgotten how I had come to be here and instead settled on the fact that I was content to be anywhere but St. Dymphna's. My head still felt somewhat clouded. It was like Occlumency, except I had not choosen which memories to lock away and which to allow. It was almost like being in someone else's thoughts as I had to sift my way through in order to find what it was I was trying to remember. Now, I was trying to remember how I had ended up at St. Dymphna's. I knew the facts as I had read them in my own file, but I still had no memories of anything after the _incident_ in the Shreiking Shack and waking in restraints at the institution. How had I survived? How had I gotten away from Hogwarts unnnoticed? Why had I ended up in the hands of the Muggles and not in Azkerban where I deserved to be? Why couldn't I ...

...As if hit by lightening, I felt my body slam to the ground so sharply the air was forced from my lungs. A weight was on top of me. It took a moment for me to realize that weight was Ms. Brown.

"Shhhh, stay down. Something is coming down that road up ahead." She quickly pulled herself away from me and distanced herself several feet from where I lay gasping for breath. Then I saw lights pass over the grass above our heads as I heard the sound of tires on old pavement. I watched Ms. Brown from the corner of my eye as I listened and stared up at the last few morning stars.

After about thirty seconds by my silent count, Ms. Brown stood up slowly to peek over the brush. "They've moved on." She took a step closer and extended a hand towards me. Reluctantly, I accepted and she pulled me up from the damp ground. "Sorry about that." Then she stepped away again. "I don't think it was anyone searching for us, but anyone wondering these fields at this hour is bound to draw attention."

She dashed ahead a few paces. The she bent down and dug in the weeds around her ankles. "Here, I nicked these from a farmhouse down the road." She casually tossed one object then another. I watched them drop near my feet. They appeared to be Wellington boots already caked in mud and Merlin knows what else. "Hope they'll fit." Then she reached down and slung another pair over her shoulder before she continued walking.

I gave the footwear a disdainful look before picking them up. They smelled of dead fish. "How can I ever thank you," I mumbled sarcastically.

"Thank me when I find us some dry clothes, and perhaps a place to rest..."

Damn. I had forgotten about her heightened sense of hearing.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I apologize for the long absence. I've been doing some serious reworking of the earlier chapters and neglecting the new material. Send me some motivation in the form of reviews! Thank you.

Dr. Cornwell

"I know, Mrs. Brown. I am deeply sorry for this, but I assure you we are doing everything possible to get them back." I poured every genuine emotion I could muster through the telephone receiver. I needed here to trust me still, despite losing all credibility.

"Them?" The woman's voice questioned. I cursed myself for not being more careful. This was the reason I had put off this conversation for as long as possible, but now there was no turning back. I needed the information that she could provide, if only I could convince her to actually be forthcoming with it.

"Yes, well, I need to ask you a few questions about that in a moment. But first, do you have any idea where she could be headed?"

"I doubt she would come back here. She still hasn't forgiven us for giving her up to you." I heard the slightest hint of bitterness in her voice.

"Okay. Anywhere else?"

"Um, well..." I could sense the hesitation. There was something major she was keeping back from me. Dammit, I had lost her trust, I knew it now for sure.

"We will let you know if we hear anything from her, Doctor." The woman's words seemed hollow as she tried to end our conversation.

"Yes, of course. But please, where could she be headed? Any information will be helpful at this point." I begged.

"I can think of many places. Anywhere really. I am sorry I can't be of more assistance..." She sighed. Even through the phone, I could tell she was not being completely truthful. She knew what I needed to know. Why wouldn't she just tell me?

I had one more chance of getting more from this woman so I played my last card. "Would you have a better idea of where she could be headed if I told you she was with a Mr. Severus Snape?"

There was a loud, frightened gasp. "Oh Merlin, no!" Then the line went quiet. She had hung up on me.

I redialed, but no answered; not even a machine. I tried again. Then a third time, but still there was no answer. I slammed the phone onto the receiver hard enough that my entire desk shook with the impact.

I swallowed hard. That was certainly not the response I had expected. I had this gnawing feeling that things had just went from bad to worse. Lunchtime had came and went, and the search had as of yet been unsuccessful. If they weren't found soon, protocol said I would have to alert to public to be on the look-out. I sighed. I did not want it to come to that. The reputation of the hospital, not to mention myself, would be tarnished. Plus, I feared what sort of hysteria it may cause in the community. The media frenzy alone would greatly affect my ability to find my missing patients and destroy any quality of care for those still within my walls. I had only myself to blame. I had lost my objectivity, and now I was paying the price. Why had I let these two get under my skin like this? Why had they received special treatment? What made them so damn special?

I let my fists hit hard on the surface of my desk as I cursed loudly. There must be something else I could be doing. I stared at the press release glaring at me from across my computer screen awaiting me to hit the send button. I considered how long I could possible avoid sending the email.

At that moment, there was a knock at the door, and one of the nurses entered. "Doctor, some of the patients are getting anxious to meet with you today..."

"Alright, alright, I will be right with them!" I quipped and stood from my desk to slip on my white coat. I noticed its weight upon my shoulders and the Shrink in me immediately began her analysis; feelings of inadequacy topped the list. Time had run out. I leaned over and clicked SEND. I quickly turned away and the door slammed loudly behind me as I left the room. One fact continued to haunt me more than anything else; why the hell did _everyone_ else seem to know about Mr. Snape than I?

Lavender Brown

I glanced at the pale light appearing above the horizon; it was almost daybreak. I had managed to get through the night without hurting myself or anyone else. In just a few more hours, the worst of this madness would subside. In just a few more hours, the rush would slow. Now I had to find a way to get us through the day unnoticed. My head was spinning from the adrenaline overdose the full moon forced upon me. I wasn't moving very fast, but my heart was racing as though I had ran a marathon, and I was actually sweating despite the slight chill in the air.  
We needed a place to hide, a place to rest, a place to spend the day until we could have the safety of darkness again. It was our only chance. There must be something nearby that would work. Any piece of forgotten shelter would serve our purposes for one day. Then we could work on finding some fresh attire and trying to blend in a bit more as we...I cut my thoughts short. I didn't want to become overwhelmed by hugeness of our task. I needed to focus on one step at time. "We need someplace to spend the day, I think. Then we can continue again after dark..."  
"Agreed. Some rest would be appreciated." Snape replied quietly although in a still unnerving way. He was worn out. I could hear it in his footsteps. I felt guilty suddenly. Why was he helping me? Why was he putting himself through this torture for something not even the least bit of his concern? And most of all, why did he trust me in a way that my own parents had forgotten how to do? Perhaps it was because he could get inside my head. Perhaps he had seen what I had seen and felt what I had felt. Or perhaps it wasn't trust at all... He was Snape, after all. I didn't trust him so why would he trust me? Besides, if he truly knew the thoughts in my head, he would be stupid to trust me. I felt the warmth of a blush spread across my cheeks.  
Then my stomach growled...shit. I was starving; yet another obstacle I had neglected to consider. "I need food..." My eyes scanned as far as they could see, but all I found was more grass. Then I spun quickly to look behind. Snape froze suddenly and I heard his heart skip a beat. Ha! There was an odd taste of irony. _He_ feared _me_. I narrowed my eyes and watched him for a long moment. I tried desperately to enjoy the sense of power I felt as our eyes met, but joy was no longer something I understood. I would have to settle for the twisted sense of amusement instead. I snorted.  
"If I was going to harm you, I would have done so already..." I then turned away with a shrug, but my ears remained tuned to his rapid pulse.

"Perhaps, but I would still be unwise to let down my guard, don't you agree?" His dark voice went straight to my still aching nerves. Damn, why did I torture myself by encouraging him to speak? And why did I care enough to listen to what he was saying?

"...I wouldn't trust me either..." I sighed as I attempted to hold back the tears that unexpectantly filled my eyes. I quickly wiped them away.

We continued our walk in silence. Using the rising sun as our guide, we moved southeast. I had no idea how far we had made it during the night, but I knew it couldn't have been more than thirty kilometers which put us much too close to St Dymphna's for comfort. If we didn't find a change of clothes and a safe place to stay soon, we would surely be reported to the authorities and end up right back where we began. I couldn't allow that to happen so I increased our pace as much as I could without leaving Professor Snape behind.

Eventually, we came to another road cutting through the fields. I scanned it in both directions. "Ooo, there is a bridge up ahead. Maybe we can stay under there for the day?" I pointed.

The Professor did not respond verbally, but I saw him nod his head from the corner of my eye. He was exhausted. Again, I felt guilty, but at least relief was in siight.

As we closed in on the bridge from the ditch alongside the road, fortune hit us yet again. "Look, Professor, berries." I reached down to pluck one from the vine beside me and moved to eat it as my thirst and hunger cried out. But before I got the juicy fruit passed by lips, Snape had me tightly around the wrist. The berry fell from my grasp.

"What are you doing, your foolish girl? You can't eat just anything you come across. That could be deadly." He hissed.

I pulled away from his grasp roughly, but against my will my skin still tingled in response to his touch. I cleared the lump in my throat with a growl. "Relax, Professor. They're only blackberries." I grew up in this area. I knew the berries well. I had spent many summer days gathering them.

He eyed the fruit suspiciously for a long moment before taking one between his fingers. He brought it to his eye and analyzed it for a long moment before crushing it roughly. Then he brought his stained fingers to his nose and gave them a sniff. Gingerly, he stuck his tongue to sample the mash. Then he nodded slowly. "They are indeed blackberries."

I began picking the berries furiously, sticking them into my mouth and pulling up my shirt to create a vessel for more. It was as thought I hadn't eaten for weeks, not hours. The amazingly sweet juice coated my parched throat with intense flavor thanks to my enhanced sense of taste, and eventually the hunger pangs were silenced. I watched Snape from the corner of my eye. He was clearly not as impressed with the berries as I was, or else he just wasn't as hungry. "What?"  
"When you are finished with your immense display of gluttony, we should probably move on. This sun is up and this appears to be a major roadway..."  
He could judge me now for my binge, but I did not care. I knew he would regret not joining me later, and I needed the refreshment, not to mention the distraction, in order to remain in control. "We may not have another chance like this one," I snarled between ravenous bites. When I had gorged myself completely, and the vines had been picked clean of their fruit, we continued the fifty paces or so to the bridge.

"Can you believe our luck? There is a perfect hideout under here." I ducked under the bridge and into the shade. It was at that moment that I realized how warm the sun had been on my face and the sweat that had built up under my scrubs. As I sat down on the cool stone beneath the bridge, I watched the water trickle by longing to strip down and dive in. Had the water been a bit deeper, or my company someone other than Snape, I probably would have done so, but unfortunately, neither was true so I settled for daydreams in the shade instead. I absently continued to eat the berries I had collected in my shirt with loud sigh as the Professor slowly took a seat on the cement nearby as his joints creaked loudly.

Severus Snape 

To sit was a welcomed relief. I reached for my tender foot and rubbed it roughly to release the tension that had built from a night of walking without proper footwear. I did the same to the other foot.

"You don't remember me, do you?" Ms Brown asked me, as she turned to face me suddenly.

"Not in the least," I replied acridly even as my mind struggled to find something familiar about the girl sitting across from me.

"Back then I would have been offended by that..." She shrugged.

"And now?" My eyes narrowed as I watched her.

"I guess I've got bigger problems, don't I?" She said sarcastically and then sighed deeply. "Why are you helping me?" She then asked bluntly. Even without Legilemency, I knew that question had been burning her thoughts since I first crawled out the window.

"Old habits..." I replied. I preferred not to divulge further details. I had my reasons, and that was all that mattered.

She rolled her eyes and huffed in response. It was definitely a gesture unbecoming to a female of her age, but very reminiscent to that of a former student.

I raised on eyebrow and my lips pursed tightly in disgust as I watched her childlike performance. It hit me then - Lavender Brown. "Ah yes, I do think I remember you now...you were the one Trelawney always went on about..." I snorted sarcastically as I thought of the many ramblings of Sybil's two "gifted" Gryffindors. "Wouldn't she be thrilled, she was right all along."

Her cheeks burned red as I suppressed an amused grin. Perhaps she would have rather remained anonymous. Interesting that she would prefer herself in her current form despite her obvious contempt for the situation. Regret? Shame? Or perhaps I was misreading her. If only her mind wasn't such a war zone, as I was again tempted to delve into it briefly, but I resisted. I would wait until I felt more capable.

I sighed then as I gave in to the pleading stare that she was sending in my direction. "Ms. Brown, until your appearance at St Dymphna's I believed all my memories to be false. I had accepted that I truly was crazy. You have reminded me who I was, and unfortunately that person has a twisted sort of debt to Mr Potter that I just can't seem to be rid of..." I paused as I studied her reaction. "Why did you request my assistance? I thought you distrusted and despised me?"

"That is not entirely true..." she mumbled.

"Strange. I would expect nothing less. It is what I deserve, no doubt."

"You may find this hard to believe, Professor, but on some twisted level, my seventh year at Hogwart's was my best year..."

I again raised an eyebrow. She was accurate; I did find her words difficult to believe. Now that I remembered the girl, I knew for a fact that she had been _Crucio_ed at least half a dozen times for various offenses during her final year. Once, after mentioning Potter Watch in Alecto Carrow's class, she had even ended up in the Hospital Wing afterward. And those were just the tortures I was aware of. I had no doubt she suffered much more as one of the few that remained resistant throughout those dark times.

"It's silly really..." She gnawed on her lower lip and stared blankly at the ground in front of her toes.

"Either tell me or don't, Ms. Brown. I doesn't really matter to me either way." I quipped, despite the slightest bit curiosity she had managed to evoke.

She took a deep breath as her gaze shifted from the ground to the bridge rafters above us. "Seventh year was the first time in my life, when it was all about something bigger...It was the first time my life was more than gossip, more than assignments and exams, more than the hour I spent getting my appearance just right each morning. And it was the first time I ever felt like I could actually be part of something important, something meaningful." She paused and shrugged her shoulders. "I told you it was silly..."

In my head, I considered disagreeing with the girl, but instead I just snorted in response. It hoped it was cryptic enough without being too offensive. After a long, uncomfortable silence, I added. "We should attempt to rest now."


End file.
